Last One Alive

by Kristopher Rufty

The sun was up, the heat thicker and more intense. Although the breezes were scarce, Megan was thankful for each one of them. She’d tucked the flashlight into the elastic band of her shorts. It rubbed against her sweaty skin, making a patch at her hip tender and raw. She poked out her bottom lip and puffed a blast of air into her soaked bangs. Sprigs of hair shot back with the rest. Her eyes burned as sweat dribbled into them. She could taste the salty warmth on her upper lip.

  Megan doubted they’d traveled much distance. It felt as if they were moving slower than time. She wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t gone a mile yet.

  With an arm around Allison’s back, Megan held her up, and had been virtually dragging her most of the way. Allison was hurt, yes, but she hadn’t been putting in any effort to move about on her own. In fact, she constantly made the trek even more complicated by looking behind them every few feet.

  Allison did it again, this time almost making both of them fall.

  “Stop looking back!” Megan demanded.

  “I can’t help it—he’s coming after us, I just know it!”

  “Then that’s why you should move faster, dammit! That way he can’t catch us.”

  “Yeah…right. Okay.” Allison was fading away in her mind. Her eyes gave it away with their wide and shocked, yet blankly abandoned gaze. “Okay.” But she didn’t move any faster. She seemed to decrease in speed even more.

  Megan was growing furious with her friend. The temptation to leave her behind while she went and located the car on her own was there, but she chose not to acknowledge it.

  “Do you think you can walk on your own?” she asked Allison. “We can move faster.”

  They stopped walking. Allison looked hesitant, frightened of trying. “I-I don’t know.”

  “We’re not making any progress doing it this way.”

  “I…I probably can do it.”

  “Let’s try.” Megan gently pulled out of Allison’s constrictive grip. Her friend’s blood was stained across her hip and thigh. Her clothes clung to her from the blood and her own sweat.

  Taking a couple steps, Allison continued stealing glances over her shoulder.

  “He’s not back there,” said Megan. “Not yet.” She was starting to wonder if there really was someone back there.

  Of course there is. Look at Allison. That’s your proof.

  What if Brian did that to her?

  Oh sure, and then went back and cut off his head, legs, and arms to cover up. Sure.

  “I think I can make it,” said Allison. “But I’ll have to move slow…”

  “Any speed you go on your own will be faster than what we’ve been doing.”

  “Yeah…” Allison looked regretful, as if this was her fault. “Sorry…”

  “Don’t be. Let’s just keep moving.”

  “Okay…”

  “You lead. I’ll follow.”

  Megan trailed a couple of feet behind Allison for what felt like hours, but she figured it was actually closer to only one. She tried keeping her eyes ahead of her, and her ears focused on everything else. It didn’t work. She found herself being too distracted by Allison’s wounds, and the excruciatingly slow momentum of her steps.

  At least some of the gashes looked to have stopped bleeding. The stains on her skin were becoming flaky and brown, no longer moist and red. But the blood was also attracting flies and mosquitoes…even ants. This probably added to Allison’s speed, which added to Megan’s aggravation.

  I could just have her sit down by a tree or something. She could tell me how to get back to the car.

  Then what? Just drive it through the woods to come and get Allison? Knock down trees with the front bumper? Sure. That would work just fine.

  Whatever. Think with your brain, idiot.

  She couldn’t rightfully leave Allison behind.

  Megan continued to walk as Allison staggered ahead of her. A hint of animal dung hovered in the air. Something had gone number two nearby. She hoped it was a deer and not anything bigger than that. Birds seemed to be competing with one another for the loudest chirp in various tenors and bars.

  Megan watched Allison drag her bare feet across the ground, scraping her toes across jutting roots and acorns that were sprinkled all over. She cringed each time a toenail caught on something, making her stumble. She wished Allison had on shoes. It would protect her feet and might speed things up.

  I could probably give her mine. I could still move faster barefoot than she is.

  She was about to suggest it to Allison when she spotted a bush over to her left. A bush that looked very familiar. Too familiar. “Hold up.”

  “Huh?”

  “Stop walking.”

  “Gladly…” Ceasing her travels, she turned around to face Megan. “Taking a break?”

  Megan ignored the question as she approached the bush. She saw the leaves, then checked the ground around it to be sure. She knew exactly where they were. And dammit…this was not where they needed to be. “We’ve been here already.”

  “Wha…?” Allison jerked rigid, then winced. “What do you mean?”

  “Right over here is where I found you!” She pointed to her left where Allison’s blood was interspersed about the forestry in an assortment of consistencies. “Just look!”

  Allison tottered closer. When she saw what Megan was pointing at, a sobbing breakdown threatened to get away from her.

  Megan continued. “If this is the spot where I found you, then that means the tents are right over there!” This time, she pointed straight ahead of them. “Right where we’re fucking going!”

  “How did this happen?”

  “How the Hell should I know!? But somehow, we walked in one big fucking circle!” She pushed Allison, causing her to stumble backwards. Luckily, she didn’t fall or Megan would have felt even worse than she did the moment her hands touched Allison’s chest.

  The betrayed, heartbroken expression on Allison’s face was like a knife to Megan’s heart.

  “I’m sorry, Allison…” She shook her head in disbelief at herself. “I shouldn’t have done that…” Tears of frustration, defeat, and shame were welling up in her eyes. “Sorry…”

  If Allison had heard the apology, she gave zero indication. “What are we going to do, now!?” Her breaths sounded like something sharp swiping across glass. “I’m hurting all over…and I’m dizzy…I can’t keep walking…”

  “This was your doing. You led us right back here!”

  “I tried, okay! I tried to get us back to the car! I just got turned around!”

  “You fucked up is what you did!”

  “Well, forgive me for letting being attacked with a sword and witnessing my soon-to-be-husband getting butchered mess up my sense of direction. Fuck me sideways! Didn’t mean to screw up! Guess I shouldn’t let petty shit like that mess with my sense of direction!”

  Now, Megan felt really lousy.

  Way to go, bitch.

  Megan sighed. “I’m sorry…I’m not meaning to take this out on you—”

  “—well you are!”

  Megan closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before talking. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. But, since we’re at our tents, let’s use it to our advantage, all right?”

  “How?”

  “I’ll grab some water, and I have a first-aid kit in my tent that I can use to patch you up some. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “Yeah…”

  “We need to get you some socks and shoes, too.”

  “They’re in the tent…with…”

  “I’ll get them.”

  Allison looked relieved. “Thank you.”

  “And we need to do it quickly. I have a bad feeling…”

  4

  The campsite looked peacefully convivial. It was hard to believe that any kind of grisly events had taken place here only a short time ago. There was a heavy sheaf of shade over the camp that made it feel ten degrees cooler. Nature was going about her day as if nothing had happened.<
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  Megan wanted nothing more than to crawl in her tent and lie down for a few hours. She was exhausted already and still had many miles to hike back to the car with an injured person that she assumed she would be carrying before long. That would at the very least double the time it would take to get back to the car—if they could even find it.

  Don’t think like that. You can do this. You have to. There’s no choice.

  Megan looked at Allison’s tent. On the other side of those nylon walls was the gory aftermath of a massacre. She felt tight and sick inside. All of her insecurities rushed over her as if they’d been dumped from a bucket over her head.

  Allison staggered out of the woods. Her eyes immediately locked on the tent as well. “You can see where he dragged me…”

  Megan followed Allison’s gaze and spotted a path on the ground where the grass had been mashed down. It was easy to overlook in the dark, but now she couldn’t miss it. She pictured Allison, dazed, being dragged along the ground by her feet, the tents and campsite becoming smaller the farther away she got.

  “Oh Brian…” Allison began to sob, her shoulders bouncing heavily by her head. “Briiiiiaaaannn…” Tears streamed from her eyes as her mouth trembled violently. She looked so pitiful.

  Megan hurried to Allison and pulled her tightly against her. She stroked Allison’s back. It felt gluey and hot under her hand. “Shhh…Calm down…calm down…”

  “I c-c-can’t calm down…” She choked a whine. As she tried to breathe her bottom lip sniffled over her teeth. She sounded like a little girl. “Brian’s dead…He’s dead!”

  “Allison, you have to calm down…and I’m sorry to say this—shut your damn mouth. Whoever attacked you is probably out there looking for us. I’m sure he knows that you’re alive and he also probably put two and two together that the empty tent over there with the all girl stuff inside is missing its sleeper.”

  “I can’t!”

  Megan pushed Allison back and quickly slapped her cheek.

  Allison’s cries stopped at once. Shock replaced the sadness. She slowly raised a hand to her cheek. “Ow…”

  “I’m sorry…”

  “You slapped me you bitch!”

  “I had to make you stop!”

  “You didn’t have to slap me!”

  “We need to get what we came for and get moving. We’re killing too much time.”

  Allison nodded against her hand. “Yuh-yeah…yuh-you’re right.”

  “I’m going to get some water out of my tent and my first-aid kit. I’ll patch you up the best I can, then I’ll get your shoes on your feet, and we can go.”

  “Okay.”

  “Sit down where we roasted marshmallows last night.”

  Megan watched Allison take a seat on one of the logs positioned in front the charred-black pyramid of sticks. She remembered how much fun they’d had last night, and how delicious the marshmallows had tasted after being scorched. Not once had Matt crossed her mind.

  And he was now? Seriously?

  “Hurry up,” said Allison, calling her back from the retention.

  Sounded as if Allison was regaining her wits, and this was good. Megan was glad to have her back. “Two shakes,” said Megan, darting toward her tent. As she was about to enter, she paused.

  Squatting, her hand hovered in front of the flap. Then she remembered she hadn’t closed the tent when she’d clambered out of it. She’d left the flap dangling.

  What if he’s in there waiting for me?

  “What’s wrong?” Allison called from behind her.

  Too late to try for the element of surprise.

  “Nuh-nothing,” answered Megan, shaking her head. If he was in there, he surely knew she was right outside. So, either way, she couldn’t get the jump on him.

  She still needed to at least check. Maybe he’d searched inside, then sealed it back up when he was done.

  Why would he do that?

  So she’d know he’d been here.

  Megan’s skin went tight and crawly. Somehow, she knew that was exactly what he’d done.

  Here goes...

  Pinching the zipper between her forefinger and thumb, she ran it along the teeth. Before the flap could drop, she pushed it in, ready to leap back and run if she had to.

  There was no need. The tent was empty.

  Megan rushed inside.

  Her cooler-pack was at the back of the tent. She opened it, removed two bottles of water, and set one of them down. She twisted off the cap of the one she kept, chugging until the bottle was empty. Discarding it over her shoulder, she took another from the cooler.

  It took longer to locate the first-aid kit than she would have liked. Opening the lid, she rummaged through its contents, sighing when all she could find was some band-aids, two patch-bandages, and disinfectant spray.

  “It’ll have to do,” she muttered, closing the lid.

  Then she grabbed her backpack, up-ended it to dump out the useless crap, and tossed in some water, the kit, and a blanket. She pulled the flashlight out from her shorts, dropping it into the backpack as well.

  Looking around the tent one last time, she decided she had everything she needed.

  Megan zipped her pack, and scooted up to the exit. She pulled the flap back, ready to depart, but promptly stopped. Her hand rose to her mouth, trembling fingers cupping her lips.

  Oh. My. God.

  Allison sat on the log, rubbing her arms that were probably throbbing, and staring absently at the ground. Megan had expected that. But what she hadn’t counted on was the large man standing behind her.

  He was garbed in bedraggled clothing. Long pants, boots, a long-sleeved shirt rolled up to the elbows. He must have been seven feet tall with straps crisscrossed over his chest, each one attaching a separate, two-bladed ax to his back like swords. A knife was sheathed around the thigh of his left leg.

  And the final piece of his attire was a mask—crudely made, perceptibly by his own hands. It looked trussed over the bushel of unkempt hair that sprouted from his head in wild frizzes. The mask was crafted of a thick, leathery materiel—sections had been sewed and patched up with other types of materials—and covered his face, dangling down to the top of his chest in a ragged point. Serrated slits had been made for the eyes.

  He was filthy; his skin smudged with dark spots, and even from her tent, Megan could see how his blackened fingernails were long and jagged like broken talons. He looked as if he’d survived in the wilderness for quite some time.

  The sword Allison had declared was actually a machete, but the biggest that Megan had ever seen. Clutched in his right hand, the gargantuan blade dangled by his leg.

  A walking monstrosity.

  And Allison was oblivious to his presence.

  5

  “Allison.”

  Megan had hoped to get her attention with a shouting whisper, but no sound had been made when she mouthed her friend’s name. She tried again.

  “Allison.” A bit louder this time, but still not loud enough.

  Allison continued sitting on the log, staring at either the ground or her feet while rubbing the back of her neck. Megan reached for the flap, then hesitated. She wanted to pull Allison away from the monstrous maniac, but was so frightened that she couldn’t move.

  Allison raised her head, rolling it around on her shoulders. A staccato chain of pops and cracks followed. She sighed. Her eyes locking on Megan hunkering down in the tent, her face scrunched up with confusion. She opened her mouth to say something but Megan quickly waved her arms, hoping she would understand that she was telling her not to speak.

  “What!?” called Allison, loudly.

  Megan’s heart lurched in her chest.

  My God doesn’t she understand anything?

  She continued to wave her hands, pointing over Allison’s shoulder, trying to warn her that someone was behind her. She even began mouthing: Get away from there.

  Allison didn’t seem to grasp it. “What’s wrong with you?!”


  Megan slapped a finger to her lips, silently shushing Allison. She stopped talking. At least that had worked. Allison looked even more confused, watching Megan miming with her hands—pointing past her shoulder, then using her thumb to point another direction.

  Whether Allison understood the warnings or not, she was beginning to realize something was wrong. Allison sniffed a few times, grimacing at the odor her nose must have caught. Though Megan couldn’t actually smell the maniac, she guessed his smell was less than pleasant.

  Megan mimed the motions one more time.

  It clicked.

  Allison swallowed. Hard. Instead of fleeing, she slowly looked back over her shoulder. Her entire body began to tremble.

  She sees him…God oh God she sees him. Please Allison, run…RUN!

  Standing massively like a statue placed there, and all Allison seemed to know how to do was shiver and quake.

  His free hand lashed out and gripped onto the back of Allison’s neck. He raised her off the ground like a kitten, then dropped the machete where it imbedded itself—blade down—into the ground.

  Allison’s feet dangled limply as if his grip paralyzed her. Her pleading eyes found Megan, and she could feel her friend begging to be rescued. But as horrible as it made her feel—like a coward, chicken shit—Megan knew she wouldn’t be leaving the tent. Her legs felt weighted down with lead. She could only watch with a hand cupped over her mouth.

  The maniac squeezed Allison’s neck. Then, using his other hand, he grabbed her chin and wrenched her head around in one quick motion. A loud succession of splintering cracks resounded through the still air. Allison went immediately limp. When the man was done, Allison’s face was positioned above her spine. A mound of lumpy, dough-like flesh was amassed at the side of her neck. Megan could see the front of her body and the back of her head at the same time.

  He released her. Allison dropped to the ground in a lifeless thud.

  The maniac towered over Allison, gazing down at his work completed. Time seemed to stand still. Megan could hear nothing but the rumbling whoosh of blood pumping deep in her ears. Her breathing felt as if it had slowed to an infrequent puff.